


Forgive Me Father For My Sins

by I_Require_Holy_Water



Series: Lord of the Flies One Shots [2]
Category: Lord of the Flies
Genre: Angst, Dark Thoughts, I don’t know how to tag this, and please be careful reading, just be aware it’s sad, so i cried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26004877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Require_Holy_Water/pseuds/I_Require_Holy_Water
Series: Lord of the Flies One Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123289
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	Forgive Me Father For My Sins

Of all the things in the world to want, Jack Merridew has always wanted a dramatic death. Perhaps he wanted something like the movies. Dying in a lover's arms, or in a noble war. Yes, that was it. He wanted to die as a warrior. On a hunt would’ve satisfied the never ending craving for the constant attention of others. They would’ve told stories about him while a fire crackled in the background, the smug look on Ralph’s stupid face finally gone as even he mourned the loss of the hunter. It would’ve been so honorable. They’d tell everyone when they were rescued. There was a boy who did everything for us to stay healthy and eat.

All of those wishes disappeared as quick as warm breath on a cold morning. He hadn’t meant for it to happen. He wished he could’ve seen it coming. He wished he could go back in time and tell himself to be careful. He wished that he’d listened to the annoying voice of Ralph. He wished he could just change anything. _ Everything _ . 

Jack had slipped. A sharp rock came out of nowhere and sliced a cut into his foot, sending him tumbling on the side of a cliff. The only reason thoughts were still running through his restless mind was because his hand had caught on the edge. The rush of adrenaline should’ve been enough to get him to lift himself up. But the cliff was too jagged. A rock was already pushing into his skin, threatening to break into it. Maybe then he’d be satisfied. If he spilled his own blood.

He tried to scream out, but no noise escaped his lips. His body rejected the chance of a savior. It was silent in the jungle as the painfully slow drip of blood fell from his foot to the bottom of a long drop. He scrambled to get a better grip, failing miserably and almost tumbling over the edge. 

He was going to die. And for the first time in his short lived life, for the first time  _ in fourteen fucking years _ Jack Merridew was terrified. He’d never felt this feeling. The uncontrollable tightness in his chest as the realization dawned on him. It wasn’t the fact he was going to die. Everyone was going to die. It was the fact that he was so painfully alone. He wanted his mama to be here, comforting him. To whisper in his ear like she used to do when he was little. Tell him that he wasn’t alone. Tell him everything was going to be okay.

Hot tears streamed down Jack’s face now, smudging the already messy clay. His arms were growing tired and the sudden urge to just let go was growing. Fall through the air. He’d get to see his mama again if he was gone. He’d be able to see her smiling face one last time as he drifted off. He hoped it would be painless. A final crack of more bones than he could count and it’d be over. That was the thing about death. Nobody knew whether or not it hurt. 

His hands were growing sweatier by the second. He could almost see the other side. Blinding white. It hurt his eyes, but a small price to pay for peace. He was going to die. 

He was going to die and nobody would know. Would they even remember him? Would the choir boys even realize that their leader had gone? The thought of being forgotten hurt him worse than the most gruesome death could. Everyone standing over him, laughing. Backs turned to the cliff, he could see the image so perfectly. All he’d ever wanted was to be remembered. But they were forgetting. And he could feel it. 

That oh so simple thought clouded his mind. He’d built up so many scenarios where everyone mourned, he got a fully flowered grave, more tears were spilt than people cared to admit, but the mind of Jack Merridew had never ever seen a scenario in which nobody batted an eye. And now, it was all he could see. What if by the time they got saved nobody could think of a boy with red hair that once roamed the island? What if they woke up and found his corpse, wondering who he could’ve been? What if nobody gave him a headstone, what if nobody knew? Nobody was going to. He was alone. Painfully alone. Oh god, nobody knew he was going to die.

“Jack? JACK!” A small boy ran forward, petite hands wrapping around Jack’s arms. Simon. He didn’t want to appear weak. Not to a boy he’d grown up with. Jack tried to pull himself up. But he was so tired. His arms were screaming, pleading to just rest. Just stop holding on. And in him grew the temptation to just fall...

“Jack please hold on. I-I’ll go get help. Something. Anything.” Simon’s words grew hushed at the end. The boy’s voice was breaking. Sure he was batty, but even he knew this was Jack’s end. And through all the greed and selfishness Jack had been taught growing up, he didn’t want Simon to have the same fate. The boy deserved to live. The boy deserved to be happy. It was something Jack would never  _ ever  _ deserve. Life respected those who were good. And Merridew was everything but. He knew what he had to do. 

“Simon please.” Jack’s voice cracked too many times to count. God, he felt so weak. It was only Simon. It was just Simon. He licked his desperately chapped lips and closed his eyes. Jack was taught. He was taught people like Simon were batty. He was taught people like Piggy were below him. He was taught that not everyone can be good. He was taught that the only way to learn was to ignore your gut and what you knew. But some things people just knew. Some things went without explanation, it just wasn’t what you’d grown up to know. Simon had realized what they were. And as much as Jack tried to run and fight it, he was a savage. But Simon…

“Si-”

“You never call me Si.” Thick tears were flowing down the tan boy’s face as he gripped Jack’s arms tighter. Jack’s hold slackened as his eyes fluttered shut. Maybe that would be the first and last time Simon heard it.

“Simon. I… I can't be saved. Oh God, I’m so far gone. But you. You can fix them. You can help them. Can you please? Fix them for me?”

“Jack you’re not dying. Stop talking like you’re dying.” Simon’s voice was strangled, almost like he didn’t want Jack to go. These words made Jack listen. He’d never heard it before, but a small voice told Jack that Simon wanted to drop him. An instinct in the back of his mind. The same one that made him go feral. It whispered. It told him that this whole time the redhead had been nothing but a burden. That he was a worthless mistake. That the only good thing he could do was die. Who was there to care? Simon’s life was worth 5 of Jack’s.

“Simon. Let go of me. You’ll fall with me. And you have to live. You have to prove they’re good.”

“Jack. Oh Jack. I’m not letting you go.” 

“Forgive me father for my sins.” Jack mumbled, before kicking off the stone, breaking the weak hold Simon had on him. And right through his fingers, the warm flesh of the once living boy, the boy who treated Simon like a brother, the boy who despite seeming like he hated them all somehow loved the choir more than anyone else ever had was gone. The scream of loss echoed through the jungle as Simon rocked back and forth, hands tightly entangled in his hair. 

“Wake up, wake up, wake up, WAKE UP.” But he couldn't. And this was painfully real. Jack Merridew was dead. 


End file.
